Breath of Life
by DawnTwilight
Summary: Selecting the room he wants to view, the bedroom comes into sharp focus, mainly the king-sized bed below. *Warnings: This story starts as a case study, but will eventually go to a very dark place, including stalking, voyeurism, fetishes, rape and includes a serial killer. Please don't read if any of this list will trigger you.
1. Chapter 1

H50H50H50

He gently closes the rear sliding door behind him and slips off his flip flops. Stows them into the side pocket of his backpack before he pulls his tee over his head and unzips and shimmies his shorts over and down his hips and lets them fall to the dining floor.

He is not wearing any underwear, so he stands nude and exposed in the dining room. Goose flesh rising on his arms and calves, he bends to gather up all his clothes and puts them into the pack too.

He looks around in the morning light, sees familiar furnishings and knickknacks, an unread paper still folded on the desk.

This is far from his first time in this house, but after tonight it will be his last.

After tonight he will have what he has wanted for so long, and there will be no need to come here again.

At the thought of his quarry, he moves farther into the room, running a hand over the cold, smooth surface of the dining table, thinking of the fun he will have here.

Then, padding into the light and cheery living area, masculine, but lived in, he takes in the sight of framed, family photos of laughing children. Throw-pillows left on the floor. A bowl of stale popcorn on the coffee table.

This table is sturdy, too, so he can see the potential.

Next, he wanders into the kitchen and pulls a glass from the cabinet over the sink, finding the orange juice on the top shelf of the fridge, just like it always is.

He fills his glass and drinks quickly, excited anticipation working through his veins.

There is a table here too, it's older and not as stable, but maybe…

He can hardly wait.

All his dreams and wants…all his grand plans will come to him tonight.

He finishes his last gulp of juice and puts the cup into the sink, not bothering to rinse it, and then makes his way down the hall and to the first bedroom, his backpack in tow.

The door is slightly open. In the dreary light of morning, he can make out a full-sized bed dressed in pale purples and pinks. And even though he can't see it clearly in the dim light, a fuzzy stuffed bunny resting against the pillows where it has sat during many of his visits.

The door to the bathroom is closed this morning, but there isn't much to explore there.

He already knows what kind of soap and shampoo he would find. In his bag, he has a small vile of pleasant-smelling fragrance. He took just enough so as not to be noticed. Still, enough to use sparingly when he is alone in bed at night, his hand wrapped tight and working his hard and aching cock.

The next room belongs to another child, too small to be of any interest, so he moves to the door at the end, that when pushed, opens into a large master suite.

The bed is just as soft and comfortable as he remembers, as he drops his bag and lays down on the morning crisp linens.

He supposes he could take a nap, he has the time, but instead, he gets up and pads to the closet, opening the sliding door and looking up to see the hatch to the attic.

This early, the upper space will be cool enough to do his work, and once the sun is higher in the sky, he will come back down and get things ready.

The door moves effortlessly and quietly, as he has used some oil on the hinges to make sure it stays that way.

Once he hoists himself up, he pushes his bag to the side and crawls over and lays in the folds of the bedding he has brought with him from home.

He settles in and grabs his bag. Pulling out his laptop and connecting to the house internet, where he uses a program of his own design to pull up the camera access, he has carefully set up.

Selecting the room he wants to view, the bedroom comes into sharp focus, mainly the king-sized bed below.

Countless nights he has observed deep breathing dreamed filled, sleep or fitful, noisy, night terrors.

Cuddling and comforting kids.

Lonely nights with just a hand or occasional toy and on some nights, few nights, lovemaking, or his most favorite, fast, and furious fucking.

He has more to do. Preparations to make. Picking out items to use and finding the perfect pair of undergarments to lie out on the bed. For now, he decides to think about the fucking, his hand smoothing over hairless chest and navel, his palm circling, circling, and then grabbing his hardening cock.

Tonight, he will finally possess that which he has so patiently waited for. Still, now…now he has time to relax and enjoy all his accomplishments.

Tonight, his prize will not only be within his reach, but his total control and he will finally have what he wants the most.

There will be no fear…

He will have plenty of space to do his work…

All the time he needs…

Tonight, he will be fulfilled once again and thinking on the carefully planned, long weekend and all that he will have, he comes over his hand and into the bedding, but he doesn't care…after tonight he will never be here again…but the memories…the memories will always, always be with him.

H50H50H50

**Six months earlier…**

Danny was irritated, but what else was new?

Steve was currently barreling down the highway. Early on a Monday morning. Back wheels momentarily losing traction on the wet pavement, making the Camaro fishtail before getting it back under control.

"Why," he asked and then asked again, "why must you drive like a deranged nutcase, in the rain, in my car?"

For his part, Steve just smirked at him. Then he returned his attention to the crowded highway as civilian vehicles parted like the red seas to get out of his partner's way.

"I'm serious," he huffed, his voice pitching higher, "on the days we have your truck, we aren't breakneck driving to the scene of a homicide…the person is already dead…they aren't going anywhere!"

"I can't see the future, Danno."

As if that explained everything.

He wasn't sure what level of incredulity graced his face, but when Steve glanced his way, he just said, "how am I supposed to know when we will be called to a scene?"

"A scene…a scene?"

He felt like a damn parrot. "A scene is not the point, Steven…the point is…" Before he got to the point that his partner of nine years was a complete idiot. Said partner slammed the brakes and slid neatly into a space in front of an ordinary house on an ordinary street. Then they were both getting out of the car.

Duke rushed toward them, holding a big black umbrella, his pace brisk and his face grim.

Some poor schmuck in a uniform dashed past them, almost making it to the gutter before tossing his breakfast on the sidewalk.

Danny hung back a bit to make sure the guy was gonna be okay. At the same time, Steve talked to Duke. He then headed toward the house, barking orders, instructing the forensics unit to get up some command tents and then disappearing into the house.

Duke gave Danny a weary look, telling him, "it isn't pretty," and then to his officer, "go wait for the coroner and bring her through when she gets here."

"Yes, sir," the guy said, straightening up as Duke turned on his heels to talk to the rest of the officers on the scene.

There was a perimeter to set and doors to knock on, and Duke would need to coordinate all the people coming and going.

Danny turned to see the pallor of the cop, as the rain puttered out, and a trembling hand wiping at his mouth and said, "Don't sweat it, man…the first few times can be really rough."

"Yeah…ah, thanks…sir?"

"Danny Williams," he told him. "I would shake your hand, but…"

The guy looked down at his hands and then wiped both down the front of his uniform, "yeah…I better…" he canted his head toward the street, turning to wait for the white van that would bring Dr. Cunha.

Danny found Steve in the front room, stopping to take some shoe covers from one of the SI techs and pulling on the black nitrate gloves he always had stuffed in his pockets.

He followed Steve down the hall as his partner told him about their victim.

"White female, early thirties, sitting at the kitchen table, posed…cause of death appears to be ligature. No sign of blood or other wounds, no sign of forced entry. Found by her brother, James Wilmore, when a next of kin call came from her place of employment.

She was a no show this morning, her office manager said it was very out of character and her brother agreed, came over to check on his sister and found her here."

They had arrived at the doorway to the kitchen. Steve pushed the door opened, stepping onto a step plate used to keep investigators from contaminating any evidence on the floor, shoe prints, footprints, blood pools, or spatter.

Danny scanned the clean-looking floor first. Stepping to the next plate as his eyes looked side to side. Trying to see anything useful before finally looking up to see the young woman sitting with her back to them.

He knew she was dead, her coloring indicated the fact. Still, if he squinted his eyes and tilted his head, he could imagine her just sitting here this very morning. Enjoying breakfast and a cup of coffee before heading to work.

Her back was bare, her long blond hair covering her shoulders and coming halfway down the chair.

Her right hand was resting on the table, near a cloth napkin and fork. Her left-hand fingers were wrapped around a mug.

He could imagine her brother rushing into this kitchen. Seeing his sister sitting at the table, perhaps relief flooding him before noticing something was terribly wrong.

Steve went to the right to talk to a tech, having already seen the scene. But Danny went to the left and noted a plate of congealing, over easy eggs and soggy bacon on the plate, a piece of cold buttered toast, with a single perfect bite taken from one corner of the triangle. Then he steeled himself to look up at his victim and thought, no wonder that Uni puked.

She was nude, he could see that now, and her body was still in rigor, as her spine was straight, and her chin was up as if looking out the window over the sink across from her.

Her once blue eyes were covered in a milky film, and her tongue was swollen and parting her red lips. Lower, around her neck, was what appeared to be a black silk stocking, wrapped again and again, so tightly that it compressed her neck…only inches thick.

Danny looked at her face again. Noting the fresh coat of lipstick and thickly lined eyes and then her hair. Noting that it seemed freshly washed and combed, in fact, her whole body looked like it was clean if covered with various bruises that may have not even been visible when they had arrived.

Steve came back over and told him, "there is a team in the bedroom and bathroom, and a freshly washed and dried set of sheets were found in the dryer, but her bed was completely made."

Danny nodded, telling him, "we should talk to the brother too about the makeup. I saw a family picture in the front room, and she had a light-colored lip and soft eyes…this seems a little heavy-handed."

"Yeah…I thought that too. Noelani is coordinating with the SI unit head, Choi. Once he clears the kitchen, she will get the body back for autopsy. In the meanwhile, you speak to the brother and call Lou, tell him to work friends and coworkers…try to get a timeline and get Junior and Tani to help with the leg work.

She was an accountant, so get Jerry to run her financials and look for anything suspicious, investigate her clients' list, maybe we will get lucky."

Somehow, he doubted that…but he followed Steve back to the front room, taking off his gloves as Steve did, and his shoe covers and handed them to the tech to be cataloged with all the other evidence.

"What about you?" he asked, as they stepped back to the front porch and Danny spotted the same officer from earlier standing next to an ambulance door. Presumably, the victim's brother sitting on the bumper wrapped tight in a thermal blanket.

"I am off to speak to Mayor Fern, our victim, Ashley Wilmore Fern, was his son's ex-wife."

Well, that explained how they got the case to begin with. The Homicide department would typically handle a situation like this, no matter how horrific, unless there was some sort of threat to national security or had a political tie.

"I'll ask the sensitive questions, do the formal interview of Fern, and then I'll meet up with you for lunch, go over what we have, and set up a time for the family to come in."

"Yup," he called, watching as Steve drove off in his car.

He approached the ambulance, saying, "Thank you…"

"Ben," the Uni told him. "Ben Whiley."

"Officer Whiley, I have it from here."

"Yes, sir."

Once he was alone with the brother, he pulled out his notebook and settled on the bumper next to the man. A dejected slump to his shoulders and a bowed head screaming at Danny to leave him alone, but Danny had to ask some hard questions and now, while it was still fresh in the man's mind.

"James? I'm Detective Sergeant Danny Williams, with the Five-O Task Force."

The head lifted, and sad and puffy eyes searched Danny, and then James cleared his throat.

"I need to ask you some questions…"

After a small nod, Danny went on, "Can you tell me when was the last time you saw your sister before today?"

"Yeah," his voice was hoarse, but he went on, "we ah…we went out for drinks on Friday night after work…she ah…she picked me up from work, and we went to the Hilton."

Danny jotted down what was being said, asking, "Where did she pick you up from?"

"I work at a, a sub shop off of A Street, Fast Jimmy's…she picked me up around ten, and we hand dinner…drank for a few hours, trying to unwind, ya know…she's…she was swamped, she didn't say why just mentioned that a new client was being audited. It was sorta an all hands on deck type situation…she got a call, a little after midnight, and had to go."

"Do you know who called her?" Danny had already planned on putting in a request for cell phone records, but at least now he had a time frame to look at.

"No…work, I think…she said she now had to be up early the next day and called me an Uber. She hugged me and left…I waited for the car and went home…I didn't think…I mean…" shoulders shaking, his head went back down, and Danny closed his book and patted the arm closest to him.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he said, knowing that his words were inadequate, but went on, "Is there someone I can call for you, someone to pick you up?"

"No…it's just…it was just her and me. Our mother lives in Denver and our dad passed several years ago…Oh, God…I have to call my mom…"

"I can do that for you…okay, don't worry about that…I can take care of that for you."

After a few sniffles, the head came back up, and James told him, "thanks, man, but I need to do it."

"Okay, James…Just a few more questions, and then I will get someone to drive you home, and when you are feeling up to it, I would like to speak with you again, see if maybe you can remember anything else from Friday night.

Now, did you notice anyone taking an interest in your sister at the Hilton, or did she have a boyfriend?"

"I didn't notice, no…it was just a usual Friday night and no…no boyfriend now…she was seeing a guy, ya know, after the divorce…but I don't know much about him…He was only around a bit once I got here to the island, and she didn't want to talk about him, so I didn't ask…"

"But," Danny prodded.

"But, I think…I think he was a little off, ya know…a little different, but before you ask, I don't think he could have done something like this…he wasn't…I don't know, man enough, if that makes sense…he was all...save the whales and recycle and watch your carbon footprint shit…nerdy…I just, I don't think he could fight his way outta a paper bag, ya know?"

Danny nodded, then asked, "was your sister wearing makeup on Friday night?"

James said, "yeah," but got a peculiar look on his face.

Danny asked, "what is it?"

"She wears…wore some makeup, yes…but not like…not like I saw today…I don't even think she owns a red lipstick…she prefers…preferred to look more natural…if that makes sense."

"Yes, it does…Thank you, James… I'll be in touch." Danny looked around and saw that Whiley was still standing nearby, so called him over, "Can you take Mr. Wilmore home…arrange to have his car taken too?"

"Yes, sir."

He spotted Duke and walked toward him, asking, "can you get SI to look through her makeup? See if they can find what she was wearing on her face this morning and oh, yeah…can you ask a Uni to drop me at the HQ?"

"Sure thing, Danny." The sergeant signaled to another Uni, telling him, "give the detective a lift."

Danny left him then, following behind another guy in uniform, pulling his phone from his pocket, dialing Lou, to get the proverbial ball rolling. Thinking to mention the ex-boyfriend. See if anyone else close to Ashley got the same vibe about the guy. Because one thing Danny did know, was that no one really knew anyone, what people were really capable of, what really lies within.

H50H50H50


	2. Chapter 2

H50H50H50

Having completed his work, he stands in the rain, a black umbrella giving him some cover.

He watches as men and women move to and from the scene of his masterpiece…first the brother. The latter runs out of the home, gagging and vomiting in the rose bushes that line the side of the house, and then the local police show up…then the forensic people and now…finally plain-clothed investigators.

No one pays him any attention; he blends in and is thrilled that he can hide in plain sight.

He watches as the SI techs set up tents, and Sergeant Lukela works on setting up a perimeter and a command post to keep track of the comings and goings.

An hour passes, maybe more before a van pulls up. A local woman steps down from the driver's side, followed by a local man. He opens the back doors and pulls out a gurney, dropping a big bag of equipment on top of it and follows the woman to the house.

She is beautiful, and he thinks maybe…

The two plain-clothed investigators come from the house, talking to each other before the darker haired man goes to the car that they came in and pulls away.

The blond, Danny, he overheard earlier, went to the ambulance to talk to the brother.

James.

He knows James, sure he does.

James has been in the house.

James has been in the house having drinks with the lovely and beautiful Ashley while he was walking around the halls upstairs, listening to their conversation.

The idiot had been too drunk to know what was happening that night not too long ago.

Ashley, a little less drunk. Still, it was funny to him that they looked and looked for one of the bottles of beer he moved from the living room to a table on the Lanai before slipping out that evening.

Later, when he had reviewed the tapes, he saw that they had found it and that Ashley had hit her brother on the arm as if James had taken it out the back door and not remembered where he had put it.

That's a part of the fun…a big part of the game he likes to play.

He likes to submerge himself into the life he will ultimately take.

Break into the house…spent hours looking through personal items…he especially loves it when he finds a journal or diary.

Not all his masterpieces keep one, but when they do, his artwork comes out so much better...more complete and then he is satisfied…or at least until someone new and beautiful catches his eye.

Just then, he overhears the brother talking about the boyfriend. Still, he knows that is one lane of investigation that will go nowhere…not everything is art, after all.

He is intrigued by the gentle touch to the idiot's arm, a small kindness, and what a beautiful picture it makes in his mind's eye. Still, before he can think about that too much, his phone buzzes in his pocket, and he pulls it from his pants, checking the display, closing the umbrella as it seems to have stopped raining.

He really shouldn't answer it, but how can he not, with that sweet angel face looking back at him from the display.

"Hello?"

"Daddy!"

"Hi, baby…why are you calling? You know I am at work and can get in big trouble for talking on my phone, so it better be important."

"I just missed you," he hears his daughter say, but his eyes follow another beautiful sight, and he thinks, maybe…just maybe…

H50H50H50

Noelani helped her assistant, Akamu, roll in the stretcher, holding the decedent into the examination room, telling him, "Get her weighed and measured and x-rayed."

He nodded, carrying out his duties as she went to suit up for the post-mortem and grab the camera equipment.

By the time she returned, Akamu had the body on the examination table, gloved up, and prepared to unzip the body bag.

He flipped the switch on the hanging microphone that would pick up and record her voice for later review as she determined the mechanism of death and completed her official reports. And that would hopefully aid in the capture of the murderer, but would undoubtedly document the last hours of this poor soul's life.

Once her assistant stepped back, she began to speak, "This is Doctor Noelani Cunha, Forensic Pathologist. My assistant is Akuma Kalani. Today is Monday, June 24, 2019. The time is 10:23 A.M. The decedent is Ashley Wilmore Fern, positively identified by her brother, James Wilmore.

Based on rigor, lividity, and body temperature, the time of death is estimated to be between 2:00 A.M. and 6:00 A.M.

The decedent's date of birth is April 15, 1987, she is a Caucasian female, blue eyes, mid-length blond hair, weighs 124.7 pounds and measures at 5 feet, 6 inches.

The decedent was found nude, so there is no clothing to detail.

I am beginning my visual examination and documentation of bodily injuries."

The snick of the zipper was loud in the room.

Between she and Akuma, they got Ashley's body removed from the bag, and he began to take pictures where she directed as she made observations toward her pathological process.

"The cause of death appears to be Asphyxia and Hypoxia, caused by ligature strangulation. I will confirm with the physical examination of the lungs and brain.

There are no other wounds or trauma to the body, except premortem bruising.

She appears to have been bathed and her hair cleaned and combed, and makeup applied.

There are no identifying scars or tattoos."

Akuma took several digital pictures of the woman's bare neck, the stocking having been removed by SI Supervisor Choi for testing.

"The circumference of the neck is eight inches compared to the average measurement of 13.5 inches for a female.

I do not note any scratch marks on the face or chest, indicating restraint or binding of the hands. There are also ligatures on both wrists and ankles."

Her tech took more photos. Including the marks around her wrists and ankles. She inspected each bruise, thinking that something course, perhaps rope, was used to bind them, not a stocking, like the smooth lined bruising on her compressed throat. Also, given discoloration of her arms and having noted earlier pooling of blood at her back, it was likely her hands were over her head. Perhaps restrained and lying in her bed.

As Akuma took the photos, she marked each bruise on the body diagram clipped to the board to be reviewed later, along with her recorded observations.

"I note additional bruising on both thighs, possibly indicating sexual assault."

More pictures were taken, and when asked, Akuma displayed them on the screen that hung off to the side of the examination table.

She was able to magnify specific photos. See if any patterns in the bruising suggest what may have been used to bind her. Or perhaps even finger or palm prints bruised into her skin by her assailant.

After a few more notations, she declared, "manner of death, homicide.

My assistant and I will now collect toxicological specimens. Samples of tissues and fluids for histology. Collect nail scrapings and swabs for trace evidence using the UV light. I will now begin the physical examination."

She flipped off the switch to the recorder and moved to prepare the instruments needed to complete the autopsy.

Akuma removed the bag from under the body and placed a plastic wedge under the back, between the shoulder blades to elevate the chest, making the removal of organs easier.

Once ready, she flipped the switch to the recorder and said, "I am making my Y incision." Putting words to action, her scalpel quickly cut through the flesh from each shoulder joint, to under each breast to meet mid-chest, and then down to the pubis.

In this factual dissection, unlike what people may assume was a Y incision based on movies or television shows. Noelani would be able to completely open the body cavity, get the breasts out of the way.

She had already been examining the victim for at least forty minutes. She knew the actual physical examination would take hours. The testing of tissues and organs could take days or even weeks, but the hope was that by the time she was finished, she would have something definitive that would help find the killer.

H50H50H50


	3. Chapter 3

H50H50H50

Steve sat in a purple and green beach chair, his slipper clad feet propped up on a small blue cooler, filled with the juice boxes and mini cans of soda that Danny had picked up for them and the kid.

The red cooler that would be keeping the beer cold was tucked under the picnic table in Danny's back yard and ready for later use once the sun was down and Danny's son was in bed.

He offered a cookout on the grill for the holiday, and then take Danny and the kids to see the fireworks. But, Grace had made plans to spend the fourth with Will and his family. Charlie was not a massive fan of noisy fireworks. So they came up with the idea to spend a quiet day swimming and eating hot dogs, Charlie's favorite, and then instead of fireworks, see the newest Spiderman movie.

They hit the beach early. Charlie was so excited about spending the day with his dad and Uncle Steve. They had swum and made sandcastles and got Loco Moco to share all before eleven in the morning.

Now, Charlie hopped in the shower, then settled onto the sofa to watch some TV while Steve and his Danno fired up the grill.

Danny had used the shower next while the grill heated. He returned only a few minutes later, and Steve considered teasing him about his efficiency. Still, he had decided just to take his turn instead of getting a ribbing from his friend about anal Army practices. Even though it seemed, after all of their time together, Steve had influenced Danny in some small ways.

"I'll be right back," he said, slowly getting up from his chair. Passing behind Danny as his partner put a few steaks and some chicken on the grill. Ripping open the package of hot dogs and placing all but one of them on the top rack so that they wouldn't burn.

The other went next to the steak on the hotter zone of the grill.

"I'll see ya in ten," Danny called, and Steve was about to say five, when he heard, "you are getting slower in your dotage."

He stopped short of the sliding door and turned, seeing that Danny hadn't been looking at him. Still, he could tell from his posture that he had been waiting for a witty reply. So he said, "Only old men use the word dotage, Danno." Then he slipped into the dining room and shut the sliding door before Danny had a chance to escalate into a verbal war.

Not that Steve hadn't loved it when he could spar with Danny.

Provoking his partner was one of his favorite pastimes. Still, it was already close to three, and the movie started at four-thirty. The little boy watching Captain America on Netflix in a loop in the living room was getting hungry again. A cranky eight-year-old was no fun, so he moved quickly down the hall and to the bathroom, which was still steamy and a little damp.

Steve shook his head as he flipped the switch to the fan vent and turned on the lights and shucked his shorts and tee, turning on the tap to find the water still hot, knowing that was the real reason Danny had taken a quick shower.

He stepped in under the spray, was tempted to linger, as the hot water worked out some kinks that definitely wouldn't have been there in his younger years.

Danny had been right about getting older. Even if he was almost just as quick in reflexes because he still worked out, after all, and tried to take good care of his body. Even though Steve was lax from time to time, like today, for instance. Steve wanted to eat his steak. But he also wanted to have a hot dog with mustard and onion and relish. And Danny's potato salad the best potato salad he had ever eaten, not that he would ever admit that to Danny.

Just thinking about it made his mouth water. So he hurried through the rest of his wash down and turned off the tap. Stepping out of the stall and using a towel that Danny had left folded on the toilet seat for him.

He brushed his teeth with a toothbrush he had left there a while ago. Not thinking about the strangeness of having his stuff at his work partner's house, as Danny had personal items at his too.

He even opened the medicine cabinet and found Danny's cologne. Splashing a little on his neck, loving the uniqueness of the smell. A gift from Rachel from a previous Christmas, and presumably a British import.

After running his hands through his short hair, he turned off the light but left the fan on. He walked, wrapped in his towel to the end of the hall, and into Danny's room, where his duffle bag was sitting on the end of Danny's neatly made bed.

He dropped his bath sheet and dressed in a clean tee and cargo shorts, making sure to grab his phone and wallet and shoving them into a pocket. He tossed the towel into the hamper. Then he made his way back down the hall to the kitchen. Turning the fan off in the bathroom on his way past, but leaving the door open a bit to let any remaining steam escape into the hallway.

"Want a drink, buddy?" he asked as he passed Charlie, who was engrossed in the fight scene between Thor and the Hulk amongst some others.

He still hadn't seen all the newer movie yet, even though it was one of Charlie's favorite and hadn't known the names of all the characters.

"I'm good, Uncle Steve," Charlie answered. So he went into the kitchen and started to load a tray that Danny had left there, already holding some paper plates and plasticware.

He opened the fridge to find the potato salad, red-skinned potatoes, and onion, and bacon and ranch sauce, tempted to make a small plate. Deciding against it, Steve pulled out a bowl of watermelon and ambrosia, which Danny had made just for him because neither Danny or Charlie liked coconut.

The beans were in a pot, presumably now on the grill burner along with a few tin foiled wrapped ears of corn.

He carried the tray out to the table and set a place for each of them, ripping off a paper towel for each of them and tucking it under the plastic fork, knife, and spoon.

He sat the salad and fruit and dessert on the table. Then he ran back to the kitchen to grab the salt and pepper and a stick of room temp butter and knife for their corn cob. He then went to the spice cabinet to grab the tin of Old Bay, which Danny loved on his corn…he was told that it was an East Coast thing.

Danny was just sitting down the pot of baked beans and a platter with the steak and chicken and hot dogs, one of which almost burnt beyond recognition. Still, he hadn't commented on it since Danny only ever had charcoaled hot dogs once or twice a year and hadn't made a habit out of the disgusting practice.

Danny said, "I think we're ready."

Steve jogged back to the sliding door and called out, "Charlie, grub is ready."

"I'm coming," came a reply, so Steve left the door open and went back to sit across from Danny. The latter had been in the middle of making Charlie a plate with two hot dogs, sans bun, a puddle of ketchup, and a small spoon of beans that the kid would probably not eat.

"Help yourself, babe."

Steve was starving. He forked a piece of steak, leaving the chicken for Danny, and then he grabbed a hot dog and plopped on his toppings, before spooning up a hefty helping of potato salad.

He took some beans and then some watermelon, all before Charlie had even made it out the door.

"Shut the door," Danny had called to his son, and Charlie made a U-turn and went back to shut the door.

Danny got his chicken. Piled his plate with the beans, and smothered his burnt dog with mustard and relish, before snagging a piece of steak that Steve had just cut. Giving him a goofy smile as he shoved it into his mouth. Still, Steve hadn't said a thing, just went back to cutting off the next piece.

"Danno, why are you stealing Uncle Steve's steak when there is another piece on the plate?"

"Yeah, Danno…why?" Steve chimed in.

Steve watched as Charlie dipped his hot dog into the ketchup and chew while he waited for Danny to answer.

Finally, his partner said, "because I don't want to be wasteful, buddy…I only wanted a taste, and Uncle Steve is a good sharer."

That wasn't strictly true. But Steve had found himself willing to give Danny and, by extension, Danny's kids, just about anything in his power to give, but he tucked that thought away too.

That must have satisfied Charlie because the kid nodded his head and poked at his beans with his spoon.

"Save room for corn on the con, buddy," his dad told him, and Steve noticed a piece out of the foil and cooling down so that the little guy could enjoy it at a temperature more suited for an eight-year-old.

Once he had polished off his steak and hot dog, he got his piece of corn and smothered it with butter and salt, but shook his head when Danny tried to hand him the Old Bay.

"Still," Danny asked him. "Come on, man… It's delicious, and I have given in and eaten pineapple on pizza for you."

"You love pineapple on pizza, so really, that is for you."

"That's beside the point, Steve…I finally gave it a try, and now I like it, just like I know you will like Old Bay if you would just give it a try."

"Yeah, Uncle Steve," Charlie piped in, "how will you know if you like it or not if you don't even try it."

"Yeah, Uncle Steve," Danny smirked, knowing that he had won this particular battle.

Steve sighed, but took the tin can and read the back while Danny rolled his eyes, and Charlie nibbled at his ear of corn.

Nothing looked too gross, so he sighed again and sprinkled the tiniest of amounts onto one small section of corn and took a bite.

The taste was…warm and pleasant, and he hadn't wanted to admit it, especially while Danny was eyeing him while eating his cob. He had liked it, so he nodded and sprinkled on some more, and Charlie said, "see Uncle Steve…you found a new flavor you like."

"That I did, bud…thanks for encouraging me to give it a try."

He could see Danny shaking his head out of the corner of his eye but ignored him in favor of finishing his corn.

Soon Danno and Charlie had moved on to plates of watermelon, and Steve had a scoop of ambrosia for their dessert. It was about time to clean up and get ready for the movie.

Charlie cleared the paper waste while Steve started to carry in the leftovers, and Danny cleaned up the grill.

Between them all, they had the picnic table cleared up and all the food in the kitchen. Danny had covered the leftovers and stowed them in the fridge. Putting the ambrosia in a container, that Steve had left the last time he had brought something over so that he could take it home and enjoy the rest of it later.

"Daddy, can I get a juice box?"

Danny nodded, telling Charlie, "bring in that little icebox, bud."

Once that cooler was in and the leftover drinks in the fridge, Charlie ran back out to the yard. Danny called to him, "don't worry about that cooler, bud. Me and Uncle Steve will get that one later."

The implied, 'and drink the beers once we tuck you in bed,' was left off, but Steve knew that was what would be happening after dark.

Steve could see Charlie making another U-turn and coming back toward the house.

He and Danny went to the living room, where Danny had picked up his keys and tossed them to him, and he tried not to smirk at the fact that Danny allowed him to drive his car even in their off time.

Charlie joined them a second later, but Danny reminded him, "go close the sliding door and make sure you lock it."

"Okay, Danno," and he ran to shut the door and rejoined them in the living room.

"Who's ready for Spiderman?" Danny asked, leading the way to the door, but letting Steve hold it for him and Charlie. Then Steve closed the front door and locked both locks behind them, before heading to the car and whatever new Spidey adventure awaited.

H50H50H50

The sun is unbearably hot, and he hates the sand, it gets everywhere and in everything.

He can't understand how anybody can enjoy baking in the sun and getting wet and sandy…the mess that didn't stay on the beach but follows you home in your clothes and shoes.

"Daddy…can we make a sandcastle?"

"Sure, squirt…let's set up a good place to sit first."

He scans the beach, finding the happy looking trio playing in the surf.

He knows that they would have picked this spot, because for the past few weekends, whether they had a kid with them or not, this is the beach they had chosen.

He heard about surfing plans by chance. Had spent the better part of a day searching the nearer beaches until he had finally found them and what a beautiful and sensual sight it had been.

It was the stuff of his dreams over the past few weeks.

He took a chance that they would be here today, but since it's a holiday weekend, the odds were in his favor, and he is excited that he had been correct.

His little girl is pulling on his swim trunks, so he picks a place close by, but not too close and lays out a blanket and the lunch his wife packed them before heading into work.

He finds beach toys for Lily in a big bag and gives them to her, telling her, "sit and play over here, Squirt and stay where I can see you. We can make a sandcastle in a bit."

"Okay, Daddy."

His little girl moves a few feet away and to the left, in the sightline of who he wants to see. So he sits and watches for hours, helping Lily from time to time, but mostly taking note of the lean and muscular body a few yards from him.

When the small family takes a break to eat, he pulls his lunch from the insulated bag and gives Lily her turkey sandwich on wheat and a baggie of cheese crackers. He eats his ham and cheese on plain white bread.

When lunch is over, he sees his query packing up, so he starts to do the same, but his little girl wants to stay and play.

"We have been here for hours, squirt …it's time to go, but I promise to bring you back another time, okay?"

"Okay," she reluctantly agrees, so he quickly packs their bag and gets his little girl's feet dusted off, and her flip flops back on and makes it to his minivan just as the others get to their car.

He hops into the van and makes sure Lily is secure in her booster seat and pulls out behind the car, but at a safe distance.

He already knows where the house is, that was easy enough to find. Still, he hasn't been able to observe routines as much as he would like, schedules were unpredictable, so today is his best opportunity to get an idea.

"Daddy?" Lily asks, "are we going to Tutu's now?"

He looks from the car a few ahead of him in traffic and says, "yeah, Squirt…Tutu is making burgers and hot dogs on the grill, and then you are spending the night, and momma will pick you up in the morning."

"What are you gonna do, daddy?"

"Well, Daddy has some work to do after the cookout, but I will see you tomorrow after work, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy…"

The car he is watching turns left, but he continues and eventually makes his left and follows some roads into a small community.

He pulls into the driveway of his wife's mother and helps his little girl down from her seat and watches as she runs to the open front door.

"Tutu," his baby calls and sees his mother-in-law open the door and scoop Lily into her arms.

She smiles and waves at him, calling, "Come on, Mark. The food is almost ready, and Alanna said you don't have a lot of time before you have to be at the center this evening."

"I have a little time, but it will be busy tonight."

He follows his family into the house and through to the back yard. His father-in-law is operating the grill and his sister-in-law, and her kids are playing on the swing set.

He has time to eat, and then instead of volunteering at the center like he has told his family, he will be doing a little recon.

It's exhilarating because things were coming together.

An hour or so later, he kisses his daughter and heads out the door, taking a packed lunch bag with leftovers that his mother-in-law insisted he brings with him.

He arrives just in time to see the car pull out of the drive. He follows them to their destination and circles under the guise of finding a spot, watching as they go into the building.

He parks in the handicap spot but didn't fear questioning from passerby because he has the proper tags on his van.

He arrives just as the trio make it to the front of the line and order.

The darker haired man makes a crack about the prices, but he hands his wallet over anyway.

He follows along with the crowd until he is sure that the family has gone in and then backtracks. Checking the schedule to figure out how much time he may have to explore the house.

It's a short drive back to the residence, were he parks in the drive and boldly walks up to the front door to find it locked.

He does a glance around to see that no one appears to be on the street. The nearby driveways are empty, their inhabitants probably out enjoying the long weekend, so there is little chance of anyone seeing him snoop around.

He confidently walks to the side of the house and the gated back yard. He feels lucky when he sees its a privacy fence and flips the latch on the gate to let himself in.

The yard isn't huge, but it's a lovely space. Since the house is on the corner lot, only two other homes are sharing the fence. He can see no movement from within those, so he goes up to the deck and tries the back sliding door, which opens easily, and a zing of something primal jolts through him.

He is far from a religious man. But he takes this as a divine sign that he has chosen correctly. That his next piece of work will be even more beautiful than all that have come before. Hence, it's with a sense of anticipation and excitement that he steps into the house to explore and learn all that he can.

H50H50H50


	4. Chapter 4

H50H50H50

Early Tuesday morning found Danny sitting in his office, sipping on a subpar, extra dark, lukewarm, mug of coffee. Not that he should complain since he was the one who brewed the pot.

The piles of files and paperwork in his inbox keep growing, so an early start seemed like a more prudent plan than a late night at work.

He had his kids this evening for exactly four hours, two of those spent sitting in the gymnasium of the Rec Center, watching Gracie's volleyball practice, while Charlie played.

Later, they would head to his house for a quick bite to eat, probably pasta, since it was a quick supper to make, and some quality family time until their mom came to pick them up at eight sharp.

He wasn't bitter about it, honestly.

He had just been so busy, and so had Rachel and the kids, and it was hard to schedule weekdays while his team had active cases, which was usually the norm.

Currently, he was working on six open and three cold cases.

He thought, /Wouldn't it be great if we could wrap up crime in a single day without barely breaking a sweat, like in the buddy cop TV shows,/i but that just wasn't how real-life police work happened.

So he opened his laptop. He checked his work email in the hopes of seeing anything new. A report from SI or the Coroner that he could use to generate some new angle, some new lead to follow up with, in the hope of clearing some of his backlogs.

At least Steve was great about giving him off weekends to be with his kids.

Twenty minutes later, a little before seven in the morning, he went to the printer to pull the copies he had printed to add to the hard files he preferred to keep.

Lou had finally gotten Handrick's financials and forwarded them to the team before he had left the evening before.

Handrick and his law practice was their newest case. A local business, with many political ties, which involved suspected arson of their office in the financial district of Honolulu.

They had little to go on. The crime hadn't even made the first page of the Honolulu Star. The media hadn't considered the case high-profile. So, Five-O wouldn't get media coverage that could help them cultivate leads.

At the very least, Danny wouldn't have to worry about being ambushed in the parking lot by overzealous journalist, asking questions they both knew that he couldn't answer.

The other's offices were still dark as he returned to his chair, but he looked up a bit later when the hallway light came on and nodded at Lou when he came strolling past and made for his own office.

Danny's coworker returned a few minutes later. Sipping from his cup, not complaining about the extra-strong brew, and Danny thought, ibetcha he's the only one that won't complain./i

Lou casually leaned against his office door frame, allowing Danny to continue squinting and reading the printed pages he just retrieved.

A second later, Steve came through, sticking his head in to give Danny and Lou a little wave before heading to his workspace.

A phone in Steve's office rang a minute later, and he and Lou gave each other a knowing look, as that ring meant only one thing.

He heard Steve saying, "Governor," before looking back toward his paperwork. Lou walked the rest of the way into his space and sunk into the leather chair, facing Danny's desk to finish off his coffee.

"Doesn't bode well," Lou said, sitting his cup on Danny's desk, and Danny could see the dregs of the coffee and the permanent dark ring around the top of Lou's favorite mug.

"Nope," he agreed, giving up and slipping the financial report into the thinnest folder sitting on the top of the pile on his desk. Danny knew once Jerry got in, he would go over it and pass on any information he gleaned, even if there is nothing to be found.

"Volleyball today?" Lou asked, shifting in his chair, and Danny knew his friend was just trying to put off the inevitable by making small talk.

"Yup. You?" He asked, pushing the laptop to the side and giving Lou his full attention.

"Baseball. How about we meet up with the kids after and get dinner-pizza, maybe?"

Danny thought about the precious time he got to spend with his kids tonight, but also about the budding romance between Grace and Will, and so he said, "sounds good."

Going out to dinner wouldn't take away from his family time and would make Grace infinitely happier with her evening.

They both looked toward the door when Steve wrapped his knuckles against the frame and said, "where are we on the Wilmore Fern case?"

"Ah," Lou said, standing slowly from the chair and grabbing his coffee cup, "I was betting on Handrick's, but Wilmore Fern was bound to come around again too."

The three men made their way to the computer table as Tani and Junior finally showed up, looking a little rushed, but both holding a fresh cup of carry-out coffee.

Tani stood next to Danny, bumping him with her shoulder as Junior went to stand on the other side, between Lou and Steve, and their boss got the morning briefing started.

"Starting with Wilmore Fern," he told them. "The good Governor has requested an update as he received a call from his friend Fern.

It seems the press has been poking around, interviewing acquaintances of the ex-husband, trying to dig something up, nothing sells better than sensationalism."

Tani touched the tabletop screen and inputted some information to pull up the Wilmore Fern case.

The pictures come first, always the hardest part of any case file, for Danny anyway, and then the typed notes and official reports displayed on the computer.

Steve walked closer to the hanging screen and started the review, including the case date and first-day particulars.

"No evidence of forced entry," he began. "No prints or foreign DNA," his boss sighed and went on, "no eyewitness from initial canvas, no tipsters reported, although we do have a witness that came forward who saw the victim return home on the 21st."

Danny knew more bad news was coming, as he had just reviewed the month-old case reports the past Friday.

Steve went on, "SI confirmed the stocking used to strangle her came from her lingerie.

Freshly laundered black lace panties with a garter and matching black lace bra was found folded neatly on top of other lingerie, confirmed to have been a gift from her ex-husband from the previous Christmas."

"A gift for himself," Tani piped in, trying for some levity. Still, her comments fell a little flat, even though Danny gave her a little shove with his elbow to let her know her attempt was at least appreciated.

In their line of work, they had to do whatever they needed to stay sane and not burn out.

Steve went on, "a single black silk stocking was found toward the bottom of the drawer."

The next page of the report showed pictures of the intact stocking. The one used to strangle their victim and then photos of the bra, panties, and garter and then the contents of everything else in the drawer.

Danny would usually give pictures like these a once over after receiving them, to see if he felt anything there was of value. If not, he wouldn't necessarily review them more than once. Still, even though he had looked over these photos just a few days before, he paid close attention as Tani flipped from picture to picture taken by the SI team.

There were six matching lingerie sets. Each with garter and stockings, which probably only meant that the victim's ex-husband had a fondness for silk stocking, but then something else occurred to him.

"Wait," he said. "Go back to the beginning."

Tani complied. Going back to the first picture of the black nightie set and then forwarded through the rest for a total of six matching sets. Light blue, soft yellow, hot pink, neon green, and a vibrant purple.

"I think a set is missing," Danny told them. "I mean-I am not for sure, but I think there should be a deep red."

He was intensely aware that all his colleagues were either directly looking at him now or giving him a side-eye. Still, as he had proved once before, he did have a working knowledge of beautiful lingerie.

Steve only said, "Tani make a note to follow up with the company to see if this indeed is a collection. If so, I will follow up with Fern Jr. to determine if he purchased the whole collection – could mean our perp did take a souvenir - good eye, Danno. Junior, run a search to see if there are any reported complaints of voyeurism or break-ins where only underwear or other small personal items were taken."

The next few pictures showed other, even more, personal items, found in the drawer, his and her lubrication, a roll of ridged condoms, including six torn and empty packets, two small, but colorful vibrators, and a rather large, and lifelike dildo.

Fingerprint dusting covered those items. Only the victim's prints were found, except the empty condom packs, they had no prints at all. That meant the murderer had more than likely used them to rape the victim and then wiped them down to remove the evidence, or perhaps he used gloves.

No one commented on the rest of the items, as Steve had already gone over the fact that there was no foreign prints or DNA

Next on the screen was Junior's findings from his and Tani's questioning of friends and coworkers.

Junior took over the briefing. Telling them, "Tani confirmed that her coworker, Alani Hale, was the incoming call her brother reported that caused her to cut her evening short. She relayed that Ashley needed to be at work early on Monday morning. They had both been assigned work that needed to be completed over the weekend to be able to be ready for the meeting on their client's audit. The audit was slated for eight Monday morning.

Alani had tried to call a few times over the weekend, both Ashley's cell and landline, but all calls went to voice mail.

She stated she hadn't found that as odd. They were both tasked with different verifications areas for their client and that Ashley often wouldn't pick up if she were working with a time crunch.

The victim's phone records show those incoming calls and various others, including friends."

The next page was a listing of all incoming calls over the weekend but showed none outgoing.

"Her office phoned her at 8:23 A.M., on the 24th of June. Then her brother's calls come in at 9:16, 9:22, and 9:46 A.M. He confirmed his arrival at his sister's home a little before 10:00 A.M. We have his phone records to corroborate those times, including his call to Emergency Services at 10:06 A.M.

I followed up with all the incoming callers and verified weekend alibies, assuming that she had been under her attacker's control once she returned home on that Friday.

A witness came forward who saw the evening news story dedicated to the crime and claims seeing her returning home a little before midnight on the 21st."

The next page showed the official statement of Kaapo Mahoe.

"Mr. Mahoe came in to give me his statement on the 25th. He reported seeing his neighbor return home a little before midnight. That timing checks out with the distance between the Hilton and her home with Friday late-night traffic figured in, so we don't believe she made any additional stops. He remembers the time because his nine-month-old son was teething and had just woken him and his wife, so while she dealt with their son, he went down to the kitchen to get a drink, and the dog woke up. He glanced at the clock then and decided to let the dog out so he could potentially sleep in the next morning.'

"I remember those days," Lou said, "Seems plausible to me."

Danny too, but he kept that thought to himself as Junior went on.

"Mr. Mahoe stated that the dog started to bark after he let him into the front yard. He hadn't seen what the dog was barking at. When he stepped out, Ashley's car pulled into her drive across the street, and she waved and asked about the baby, before unlocking her front door and stepping inside. We are speculating the dog sensed the perp lying in wait nearby.

Mr. Mahoe had confirmed her front door was locked as she had gone through the motions of unlocking both knob and deadbolt and that he thought that her front room light had gone on a few minutes later, and she had turned off her porch light.

Mr. Mahoe stated he stepped back into his house and locked up his own home and went back to the bedroom to find his wife rocking his son, and then they both laid him down in his crib about half an hour later. Mrs. Mahoe's corroborated his statement, and we have ruled him out aa a suspect."

It was Danny's turn, so he went over the onsite questioning of the victim's brother and then the formal statement when he came in the next day. "Mr. Wilmore confirmed his sister's movements on the evening of the 24th, and CC TV has corroborated the time frame. He did not think she was in a current relationship and that the makeup she was wearing at the time of death was not something she would normally wear. SI did not find any matching make up pallets at her home, so we think the suspect brought those items with him."

"Right," Steve went on, "Also, there was no match for anything used to bind her wrists and ankles, so we think he also brought and took those items as well."

He tapped a few buttons on the screen and brought up Noelani's official report.

"Dr. Cunha believes some kind of course rope bound her.

Lividity suggests a supine position with arms restrained over the head.

The death occurred before the positioning of the body at the table.

The victim's bloodwork indicated Hypoxemia, which means she was more than likely denied oxygen over periods of time as a form of torture or control.

Both Carotids were damaged. Her brain blood supply diminished. A small clot was found in her right ventricle, which indicated that her body was already trying to heal from previous attacks.

She had edema of both lungs and infarction of her heart muscle."

"Right," Tani said, unconsciously touching her neck, "a terrible way to die."

Danny bumped her again, this time with his shoulder, showing his agreement. The pictures hadn't done the scene justice, so he was glad that Tani hadn't seen the body in person.

"No doubt," Lou said. "SI said the sheets on the bed were clean. No DNA or fibers on the body either and Noelani has confirmed vaginal and anal intercourse up to 48 hours before the murder, but can't say if it was consensual or not.

There were no tears to indicate forcible penetration."

With all the lack of oxygen, Danny's mind went to a dark place. He was confident his team was thinking the same, so he hadn't voiced his opinion.

He did make a mental note to see if any other reported rapes going back at least a year included strangulation or even domestic disturbances.

This guy had to have gotten started somewhere, and Danny knew that this wasn't his first crime, as the scene was pristine, and that took practice-lots and lots of practice.

"Also," Lou went on, "We have never been able to locate the ex-boyfriend. It's of my opinion that he is either our perp or another victim."

"I don't like him for this," Danny told them. "He has no history of violence. He hasn't ever been arrested…not even a parking ticket on his record. However, his preferred method of transportation lately had been his bicycle.

I did speak with his mother again two weeks ago, and he is now officially reported as a missing person.

Our first conversation and her official statement indicated that he would go off the radar several times a year. Since he had recently broken up with our victim, she, at that time, had not been worried.

She also told me that her son was a pacifist. I have spoken to three former girlfriends who have assured me that he was a gentle person, had never hurt them in any tangible way, and hadn't seen or spoken to him for months.

I have also recently spoken to Detective Iona. As you know, he is handling his missing persons' case, and there was nothing new to report. It seems they have hit a wall on Jay Evert's disappearance."

Steve said, "either way, we can't rule him in or out, so let's see if we can dig more into his past and Lou, can you go speak to Iona again to see if you can coax any more info out of him?

If he doesn't seem too vested, ask him to kick it over to you, and then Tani and Junior can do a deep dive.

"You got it, Sir," Lou said, picking up his empty cup and heading back to the coffee pot.

Tani was looking at her phone but then told them, "Danny is indeed right, a deep red was a part of last year's collection, 'colors of seduction,'" and then she winked at Danny.

He chose to ignore her while Steve told her, "You get on Handrick's financials until Lou needs you. Ask Junior to go over the witness statements of the fire again."

"You got it," she turned smartly on her heel and took herself to her office, calling for "Juns," as she sat at her desk.

Steve just shook his head and gave Danny a once over. "Deep red, huh?"

He turned away from Steve then, walking back to his office, but Steve was close on his heels and shut the door behind them. "Come on, Danno-don't be embarrassed. I found that catalog in your drawer the last time I was there."

Danny plopped down into his chair, his face, he was sure, turning light pink, and he said, "oh, I know ya did…and tell me again why you were looking through my drawers."

He couldn't help but think about all the personal items in Ashley Fern's drawers. Reminded himself once again that he shouldn't keep certain things around because you never knew when your boss and a best friend might decide to rifle through your stuff.

Steve sat too, sorta letting him off the hook, by just saying, "I told ya, I was looking for a clean shirt."

Danny thought about pointing out that Steve knew which drawer was the shirt drawer. That the catalog was not even his, but Melissa's. And that yes, he had bought her a few things on her wish list, but that brought up memories that he hadn't wanted to think about, so instead he said nothing.

Steve fidgeted in his chair a minute or two and then asked, "Volleyball this evening?"

"And pizza with the Grover's after. Can I assume you are inviting yourself along?"

"You can," Steve told him, standing and moving toward the door, telling him, "I am going to see if I can get into see Fern Jr and ask a few more questions.

Want to come with?

With traffic, it'll be lunchtime by the time we get back, so we can stop at that new sushi place everyone is raving about."

Danny gave it some thought, just because he liked to watch Steve while he pretended to decide and then nodded.

"I'm in if you are paying?"

He watched as Steve patted his pockets, looking for his wallet, doing some pretending of his own, and then pulling it from the space he always kept it and said, "looks like you are in luck."

As his friend was leaving his office, Danny called, "What can I say? I'm a lucky guy," and then immediately thought, iif only that was true./i'

iBut who knows. Maybe my luck is changing./i

Steve said, "Leaving in ten, then. I want to stop for some drinkable coffee!"

Danny ignored the dig and went to refill his mug.

H50H50H50

Two kids, one sweaty and tired and the other, only tired, barreled past Steve when he unlocked and opened Danny's front door.

There was a slight back up at the coat rack with dropped bags and shoes kicked off, and Steve toed off his shoes too, making himself at home.

Gracie went down the hall and to her room, and Charlie plopped on the couch, asking, "Daddy, can I have a juice?"

Danny was taking off his work gear, locking his gun and badge in the safe in the hall closet, so Steve handed him his weapon too.

"You know where the juice is, dude."

Steve snickered at the look on Charlie's face. The kid was so much like his father when he got annoyed. But he schooled his features as Danny stepped back into the living room and watched as Charlie pushed through the door to the kitchen.

In the hall bathroom, the shower came on.

Charlie returned from the kitchen with a bag of pretzels in his hands.

The little guy plopped back onto the sofa and turned on the TV to find something to watch.

"You want to shower first?" Danny asked him.

They hadn't been chasing anyone down or doing any kind of physical activity, and Steve hadn't thought that he stunk, so he said, "Nah. I'm good."

Danny nodded, then turned on his heel and went down the hall and presumably to the master bedroom and the bigger bath at the back of the house.

Steve sunk into the cushion next to Charlie and watched as the little boy flipped through the channels, then selecting the Netflix app and a Marvel movie and settled in to watch.

Steve hadn't seen this one yet, but he recognized Captain America and got sucked into the movie with Charlie.

Grace came back through the living room and into the kitchen and then back to the bedroom with a bottle of water and her phone firmly in hand.

Danny showed up a bit later, freshly showered, and changed into a comfy looking tee and sweat pants, his feet bare intriguing. Still, Steve tried not to think about that too much and went back to the action movie on the TV screen.

He was having a problem wrangling his thoughts lately. Still, he knew that Danny hadn't thought about him in the way that Steve was recently thinking about his Danno, so he pushed those thoughts down and asked Charlie, "So, this guy was in the army, huh?"

"Yup."

Danny kept moving into the kitchen, and they could hear him puttering around in there before he called. "Charlie? Can you come here, please?"

Charlie let out a little huff, and Steve followed Danny's mini-me into the kitchen.

Danny had opened two beers and had his back turned away from them, rooting through a cabinet, looking for something.

Charlie asked, "yes, daddy?" and his father turned around to point at the kitchen sink.

"Buddy, when you get a drink of juice, rinse and put away your glass or put it into the dishwasher, okay?"

Charlie looked toward the sink, then said, "but, daddy, I-"

"No, buts, bud."

Danny finally gave up on whatever he was looking for, but turned to them and went on, "we all have to clean up after ourselves. It's the fair and right thing to do."

Charlie moved toward the sink and began to rinse out the glass, but told them, "I had a juice box."

Danny shrugged, handing a beer to Steve, telling his little boy, "sorry, bud. It was probably Grace then, and I will remind her too, but thank you for rinsing the glass anyway."

"Sure, Danno. I don't mind helping out, and I know Grace is tired. She spent the night at Marlo's and told mommy and me she didn't want to go to practice because they stayed up all night watching YouTube."

"Hmm," Danno grabbed Charlie another juice box from the fridge and handed it to him, before herding them all to the living room to settle on the sofa.

Steve ended up in the middle of Danny and Charlie.

Danny said, "well, Grace committed volleyball, and since she got to have dinner with Will and his family, I bet she is glad she went to practice now."

"Yup," Charlie agreed. "I bet she is still talking to him on her phone."

"Me too, bud. Now, what are you and Uncle Steve watching on the TV."

They both listened as Charlie went on and on about some of his favorite superheroes.

Before long, the little guy quieted down and leaned against Steve and watched his movie.

A little later still, Danny dropped his head to Steve's shoulder and yawned, and then his breathing evened out, and he fell asleep.

Grace came out of her room even later, grabbing her bag and slipping on her shoes as she quietly said, "Uncle Steve, Mom is only a few minutes out."

"Okay, Grace," he gently nudged Danny and then turned to lean Charlie toward the arm of the couch.

Danny scrubbed his face, looked around the room.

Steve told him, "Rachel is only a few minutes away."

Danny nodded, standing to grab Charlie's shoes and then went to help a still sleepy Charlie put them on.

Steve scooped the little boy up when Danny finished with his shoes and went to grab Charlie's bag and open the front door.

Rachel's headlights illuminate the front lawn as she pulled in and hopped out and walked toward them. "How was practice, Grace?" she asked, taking Charlie's bag from Danny.

"It went good, mom, but dinner was nicer."

She looked toward Danny, who just shrugged, taking his son from Steve and following his family to the car, explaining, "we went for pizza with the Grover's after practice."

"Oh," Rachel said, opening the back door for Danny so he could strap Charlie into his seat.

He said something to his son, but Steve couldn't hear him from where he was standing in the doorway. He did see the smile Danny and Rachel shared before giving his daughter a huge bear hug and then shutting her door after his daughter was safely in her seat.

"We'll see you next weekend, Daniel." Rachel got into the car and started backing out as Danny and Steve both waved them off.

"Not this weekend," Steve asked once they were back in the house.

"Nope, Rachel asked to trade since Stan has a thing, so she set up an overnight play date for Charlie with his buddy, Benny, and once Grace found that out, she made plans to go to the movies with some friends."

"Sorry, Danno," Steve told him, sinking back into the sofa as Danny went to grab two more beers from the fridge.

"It's okay," his friend called from the kitchen. "It puts us back on our regular schedule and works out better for Rachel's plans for summer vacation with the kids."

Danny handed him a beer and queued up the Yankee's game from the previous weekend they have been trying to watch for over a week now.

"If you are too tired, Danno, we can watch the game on Saturday, now that you are free."

Danny sat close to him on the sofa, taking a swig from his beer, but shook his head, telling him, "Nah. I had a power nap and am good to go. Besides, I am sure you will think up something for us to do this weekend."

"You know I will, buddy."

They both settled in, and Danny said, "I can offer you some pretzels," the bag was still sitting on the table. "I could have sworn we still had some chips left, but I guess we finished them up last week when the kids were here."

Steve leaned forward to grab the bag and then offered them to Danny first, before taking a few for himself. "No worries," he told his friend. "Besides, everyone knows that pretzels are better with beer anyway."

"Hmm," was Danny's answer, and minutes later, Steve relaxed as Danny's body slumped into his side.

Around the third inning, Steve looked toward his friend to see that Danny's head canted back on the couch. His nearly empty beer was leaning precariously sideways in his loosening grip.

Steve took the bottle and sat it on the side table near him and shifted a bit, to better support Danny's body against his and settled in to watch a few more innings.

His phone display told him it was only a little before nine.

If Danny wasn't awake by ten, Steve would rouse him and send him off to bed.

In the meanwhile, he was going to sit here and enjoy the company, even if Danny was snoring softly, his body was warm and pliant against him.

Being here with a sleepy Danny was a far better prospect than going home to an empty house and a cold bed.

H50H50H50


	5. Chapter 5

H50H50H50

He retreats to the attic when he hears keys in the front door.

He isn't expecting the little family home so soon, so he rushes to the closet and ascends the ladder, pulling the whole unit shut on soundless gliders.

His nest of sheets and blanket awaits, so he sinks down in the folds of soft silk and grabs his laptop, pulls up the live feed of all the rooms of interest.

The teenager goes into the bathroom, so he shifts his focus to the living room...he is not a pervert after all..and finds the object of his current obsession.

He watches as bags are put away, and shoes are kicked off, and mail is sorted and then a trip down the hallway and to the bedroom below him.

He clicks the image of the master suite to full screen and shifts in the bedding, lying down and shifts his computer, so his hands are free.

He intently watches the unbuttoning of the dress shirt, sees the material fall off beautifully sculpted shoulders.

The belt is unbuckled. The pants that hug that perfect ass are unzipped, and they drop to the floor and are kicked away.

The socks are next as one foot is lifted and then the other.

And then…then, finally, the boxers are shimmied down and over slim hips and a picture-perfect, yet yielding cock springs from the soft cotton underwear.

He knows they are soft because, on a previous visit, he has touched them, has fingered everything in each of the dresser drawers in the room below him.

He has balled them up and smoothed them over his bare skin and then returned them to the drawer.

He puts the palm of his hand on his smooth, clean-shaven chest, moves it lower over his abs.

Circles his fingers around his navel, then walks them upward to tweak and flick his nipple, drawing the tender flesh there into a peddled peak.

He wants so badly to smell the boxers.

Last time, the laundry was clean and folded and put away.

He wants to wrap them around his filling cock and jerk off until he comes in them.

So, a plan forms in his mind, and the risk involved sends a white-hot jolt of pleasure to his cock, …but if he times it correctly, he is confident he can pull it off.

The clothes get grabbed up and tossed to the hamper.

He watches as the sculpted body, the perfectly rounded glutes, the tapered and slim hips, the broad and muscular shoulders walk away from the hidden camera and toward the en suite bathroom.

He flips his screen display to the bathroom and catches a glimpse of reddish-blond hair that cradles the long and thick cock before his view is blocked by the shower door.

He knows there are people in other rooms in the home, but that just heightens the thrill. So he unfurls the ladder and quickly descends to tiptoe over the plush beige carpet to the hamper and his prize that it holds.

He pulls the light blue boxers from the other pieces of clothing, temped to take the shirt, but decides not yet.

His subjects usually do notice or at least have a notion that items go missing or objects move. But, they always, always play it off as overactive imagination or put it down to being scattered brained. He wonders if his new untitled work will have the same inclinations and of so, how long will it take for him to notice.

He has already left a clue to his presence in the kitchen.

The shower is still running, so he hurries back up the ladder. Quietly closing the hatch behind him, he returns to his den to watch as minutes later the shower door opens. He sees more of that beautiful body, still gleaming, step from the stall.

As a towel is plucked from the bar and then used to briskly rub slick wet skin, his hand skates down the length of his chest and stomach and then lower still to wrap tightly around his dick.

He brings the boxers to his face and breathes them in deep. The musky scent making his weeping cock jump and pulse in his grip. Then he moves his hand, up and down, up and down, faster and faster, squeezing tighter, shoving the shorts into his mouth to keep from calling out.

It's over too fast, his dick spurting over his hand and sheets, and his vision briefly dims. He leans back on his bedding and pants quietly into the material still near his mouth, and when he finally comes down, he can see the bedroom is empty, but that's okay.

He can replay his recordings later and watch as clean clothing goes onto clean skin.

Time passes, and even though he was hoping for a twofer, he is content to have caught this intimate act in person. It's so much more fulfilling to experience something while it is happening as opposed to having to queue up his screen and watch something that had already happened.

He knows he can probably come down from his hiding spot now. Slip out the bedroom sliding door and to the back yard.

He can get dressed in the darkness there and then slip over the neighbor's fence and be home before bedtime. Instead, he gets his phone from his backpack and texts his wife to tell her he is taking an extra volunteer shift at the center.

She offers to bring him dinner, so he assures her he has eaten, and that was the truth. He had eaten a sandwich from the meat drawer and fixings he had found in the fridge in the kitchen on the first floor of the house he is in.

When she asks if he needs a snack, he tells her not to fuss and to kiss little Lily goodnight for him. He will be home in time to take her to her tutu's. They both work in the morning. When she finally texts him goodnight, he tells her he loves her. Phone back in his bag, he switches his view to the camera tucked into the plastic plant at the top of the bookshelves in the living room and settles in to watch.

At first, he thinks he will just sneak out before the family below goes to bed, but once the kids leave and the couple goes to the sofa to watch some tv, he makes up his mind to stay until morning.

He needs to see where this goes, and if it went nowhere, that was okay too.

He would still have the thrill of trying to get out of the house undetected in the morning, so he wouldn't be late picking up his little angel for a fun day at her grandma's

H50H50H50

Danny startled awake and looked around the gloom to see he was still curled up on his couch.

A soft and warm body next to him shifted then, so he sat up and patted Steve on the shoulder, telling him, "wake up, babe."

Danny turned on one lamp, and saw Steve blearily look around the room and asked, "what time is it, Danno?"

Danny picked up his phone and was a bit surprised to see that it was almost three-thirty in the morning.

"Late," he told his friend, "or early,…however you want to look at it."

Steve just shook his head and then dropped it to his hands.

Danny could relate. Every joint popped, and every muscle pulled as he forced himself to stand and stretch. He tried to wake up just enough to shuffle to his bed so he could drop right into it and hopefully get back to sleep before he had to be back into the office in the morning.

He reached for Steve's arm and pulled, telling him, "Come on, …up and at 'em."

Steve stood quickly, and Danny wondered how his friend could shake off sleep so quickly, but when he turned toward Danny, they were only inches apart, and Danny wildly thought, iI can probably reach up and kiss him, and he would let me./i

Instead of acting on that thought, he instead said, "why don't you just stay here and go home to change in the morning."

He saw a peculiar look cross Steve's face, one he hadn't cataloged in the past. Still, before he could ask, Steve moved around him and sat on the bench and started to pull on his shoes and told Danny, "I should just go and see if I can salvage some sleep in my own bed, but since we both got in early this morning…yesterday morning…" Steve stuck up a finger and swirled it in the air then said, "whenever, I'm gonna tell Junior to get the ball rolling so we can go in late.

Danny was happy at that thought, but still wished Steve wouldn't drive home so late, so he offered again, "you can stay here, ya know? My bed is big enough for both of us."

The look came again, so Danny quickly amended, "or you can crash in Grace's room."

Steve stood and patted Danny on the back before moving to the front door, but told him, "Thanks, Danno…but I need to do a little work in the morning from home, so…"

Danny nodded, even though he hadn't believed a word of what his friend was saying and wondered maybe that kiss wouldn't have been as welcomed as he had thought.

It was a pipe dream, anyway.

Danny and Steve had worked together for so long, had spent so many hours together. He had never really seen any evident signs that Steve might have been interested in him. Hadn't even seen any evidence that Steve would be interested in men in general.

So he said, "So…goodnight…or good morning, whatever. I'll see ya when I get in."

Steve backed out of the door, nodding and telling him, "Yeah. I'll see you in the…in a little bit. Night, Danny."

Danny held the screen door, calling, "goodnight," as Steve hurried to his truck and got into the cab and started up the engine.

Danny waved as Steve backed out of the driveway.

He closed the door and locked both the deadbolt and handle before turning off the porch light and living room lamp, shuffling down the hallway and to his bedroom.

He wanted nothing more than to drop into his bed and drift back to sleep so that he could wake up in the morning feeling somewhat refreshed. Still, he could already tell, as he slid between the sheets that he would be up and thinking about that look on Steve's face.

Had it meant that Steve was interested and was scared to act or had it suggested that Steve was not interested and hadn't wanted to hurt Danny's feelings.

Hell, maybe it had just meant that Steve wasn't as awake as Danny had thought, and he was just trying to figure out what Danny was offering.

Not that Danny had even known what he was offering.

A bed to sleep.

Yes.

He was offering a bed to sleep, and that bed had just happened to be the same one Danny would be sleeping in, but that was probably all he meant.

iRight?/i

"Yeah," he huffed and then turned to his side and pounded the pillow a second or two to get it into a shape he could work with and closed his eyes.

He and Steve were partners and friends…good friends…like brothers, …but then also not like brothers.

iThere's touching, right?/i

Shoulder pats and back rubs and side hugs and bear hugs and kisses…

…kisses on the head and forehead and that one time on Danny's cheek…

…and looks…

iRight?/i

He flopped to his other side, kicking at the blankets that were strangling his legs and pushed his pillow up, thinking, i I have caught him looking at me before./i

iNot just looks…but looks./i

He rolled to his back again and looked up to the ceiling and the fan turning in lazy circles above and said, "This is stupid."

He hadn't even been with a man before, so why the hell was he thinking about it now?

iBecause it's Steve./i

Steve was his friend.

Steve was his partner, coworker…boss, technically.

Steve was even a co-parent of sorts.

Steve was like a brother, but not like a brother because...because Danny had found himself thinking about Steve in ways that you would not think about a brother.

Those big and gun calloused hands touching him tenderly on the back when Danny was upset.

Or those long and strong arms pulling him in for a needed hug...a little peck to his forehead to offer comfort…

He pushed the covers back, unable to stop thinking about the rest of Steve.

The broad and hairy chest.

Strong shudders and rippling biceps and those hands…what could those hands do to Danny?"

"Fuck!"

He closed his eyes and tried to push the thoughts away, but the images of Steve just came faster.

"I'm just lonely…"

Since Melissa had gone back to the mainland for a job opportunity, he hadn't had time to date or even pick up someone to fuck.

iFuck…I want to fuck./i

i It's a dry spell …that's all …that's why I am thinking about Steve like this./i

iWhat's the harm? It's just make-believe./i

So he pushed a bit of guilt down, using Steve as a fantasy fuck, and let his hand linger over his belly, and then a little lower, to smooth over the soft hair of his thigh and the crisp curls of his pubs and thought, iI wouldn't mind if Steve used me as a fantasy fuck./i

He grabbed his cock, feeling the blood flow to full hardness.

Did Steve think about him on lonely nights, touching himself in the dark of his bedroom?

Was Danny on his mind as he stroked himself slowly. Trying to draw out his pleasure before going at it harder and harder, pretending it was Danny's hand or Danny's ass he was pounding into?

Danny squeezed his cock tight, stroked his length just like he loved, pulling hard and flicking his wrist a time or two.

It was good, but it could be better.

He wanted it to feel even better.

So he reached for his bedside table and blindly searched through the contents one-handed for the lube he used to use with Melissa.

He let go of his dick long enough to lube it up, to get both his hands sticky and slick and went back to stroking.

He tugged upward with both hands.

His ass coming up off the sheets.

Sliding his skin back to the root of his cock, over and over.

He bit at his lip, and then he suddenly thought about what noises Steve might make.

What they would both sound like fucking, and then he let out a little whimper, an almost silent moan, as he pulled in his bottom lip and bit down.

Would Steve be surprised that Danny tended to muffle his voice while having sex? It was an old habit. Having kids in the house had taught him to stuff his face into a pillow or a fist into his mouth, but would he be free to just let go if he were at Steve's …in Steve's bed…

He let some small, breathy noises escape, "ah, ah, ah…fuck…oh..."

The kids were at their mother's, and Steve was home tucked save into his own bed.

There was no one to hear him letting go…so maybe he should.

He tilted and pumped his hips faster, wishing he had something to work against his ass. Thinking about what it could feel like to have something hard...something substantial against his back and ass.

Both his fists frantically tugged and twisted his dick, and the sheets below him gathered with his movements and touched him in places that he could pretend were warm hands caressing his skin.

He let go with one hand, pinching and twisting his nipples.

The pressure was building low in his belly as frenziedly pumped his dick and worked his hips. The tension in his head was growing along with the tightening of his balls.

He was so fucking close.

iSo close...god...Steve.../i

Steve's face shuttered into his mind's view, a little knowing smirk on red kissed lips...

...Danny's body was suddenly frozen...locked in place in pure ecstasy…

...His mouth dropped open, but he couldn't even utter a groan...

...His limbs shuddered and shook, and whole-body chills engulfed him to his very core...

...Bright spotted light zigzagged behind his pinched lids...

...And then he found his voice...

"ahhhhgaaaa…mmm…fffff...oh, fuck! mmm...mmm...oh."

He gentled his strokes, still lightly rolling and pinching a nipple. His cock spasm in his grip a few more times, cum chugging slowly from his slit. He clenched his ass and stroked until he couldn't stand his own hand any longer.

After what seemed like an eternity, Danny finally collapsed on his bed, still gulping for air, the sheets sticking to his sweety skin.

He blindly reached for a corner of his sheets to wipe at the mess before turning to his side and drawing up a leg, snuggling into his pillow.

His skin cooled.

His breathing slowed.

His heavy eyes drifted shut.

He would be asleep soon.

He floated, thinking, he would be up in the morning to shower and go into work a little late, and he would see Steve, but that was okay.

Danny had Steve, his friend and coworker, and technically boss. Steve, his sometimes co-parent, and brother, and sometimes more than all of these.

Danny had a fantasy, Steve, too.

Tomorrow…tomorrow he would look through his contacts to see if he could arrange a date with one of his many woman friends…even better, maybe find a friend with benefits, but not a guy…

It occurred to him as he was dropping off that he hadn't had sexual feelings for any of his other male friends, and it had never even crossed his mind to find a guy to date…

…a thumping noise somewhere above him startled him a bit, but he closed his eyes again and thought,i it must just be the house settling, or maybe a branch from the tree in the back yard close to the house…/i

...he would call someone…

…call someone tomorrow to come to trim the tree…

H50H50H50


End file.
